


I Guess That Makes Us Even

by buggachat



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Character Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Oneshot, but it's okay he's fine, flashbacks in italics, in which ladybug's 'miraculous ladybug' power can save lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buggachat/pseuds/buggachat
Summary: In which Chat Noir is far too willing to sacrifice himself for Ladybug, and while her power of restoration may be able to mend what's broken, it can't erase the memories.





	I Guess That Makes Us Even

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction! I'm not much of a writer, but hopefully it's still readable.

She’d never liked how Chat Noir always stepped into the line of fire for her. She’d never liked that he was so willing to boldly sacrifice himself. She’d never liked seeing him get hurt.

“Don’t ever do that again!” she sobbed, her fists balled as they gently tapped against his chest. She wanted to put more force into her punches to illustrate her frustration— he was in suit after all, and she knew that it wouldn't hurt him-- but his mortality was so abundantly present to all of her senses, she worried that the slightest force could shatter his body into a million pieces. She'd never viewed him as so fragile before. “Don’t you ever, ever do that again.”

 

_She was incapacitated on the floor, her yoyo beyond an arm’s length away. The blade came swinging down towards her. Her eyes slammed shut in a flinch._

_She didn’t feel it hit her._

 

“Ssshhh, bugaboo…” Chat whispered, his gloved hands moving to grip at her wrists to cease her 'punches', “It all worked out in the end, right? You saved me. It’s okay.”

 

_She opened her eyes in shock to see Chat kneeling to the ground in front of her, back facing her. It had granted her the window of opportunity to snatch her yoyo from the floor. She’d noticed Chat’s baton nearby. He hadn’t had it on him._

 

“But it didn’t!” she choked out, raising her arm in a futile attempt to wipe away her ever-flowing tears, “It didn’t work out. I didn’t save you.”

 

_He was clutching his torso. She couldn’t see his face._

 

“I’m right here, Ladybug…” Chat said in a voice so soft, so gentle, it made a sob rush to her throat.

 

_“Chat? Chat! Are you—” she was interrupted by another swing of the villain’s sword. She blocked it with her yoyo shield, her attention (but not mind) turning to the villain before her. She didn’t have time to check on Chat._

 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” She chided through an unsteady voice, her body shifting its weight in an attempt to find a position where she felt comfortable. Nothing worked. She’d never felt so uneasy in her life.

 

_She drew the akuma victim away from the scene, knowing that Chat had been injured and was vulnerable. The fight continued for a good while, and eventually the akuma victim had slipped away and escaped to recover._

_She knew she should have followed, but this was the only chance she’d get to check up on Chat. She headed back to the rooftop she had left him on._

 

“Do you… want a hug?” he asked, his voice so devoid of teasing that it made her angry. He was being so sweet, so considerate, so gentle. She was angry that she couldn’t be angry at him. She hated that her answer was an unwavering " _yes"._

 

_When she landed on the rooftop, Chat Noir wasn’t what she found._

 

She squeezed her arms around his thin form, burying her face into his chest. She’d always liked his bell; the silly, over-the-top addition to his costume that was so unapologetically _Chat_ … but in this moment, she couldn’t stand it. The bell dug itself into her cheek as she tried to push her face into his chest. She just wanted to be close to him. She just wanted to be absorbed by his living, breathing presence.

 

_It was a civilian. A teenage boy with blonde hair. He was wearing jeans and a red shirt._

_His back was facing her. She couldn't see his face. He laid limp against the concrete, unmoving._

_No. Wait. ... It was a white shirt._

 

“I-I should’ve been smarter,” she cried out, shoulders trembling as she leaned against him. His claws combed affectionately through her ponytails. “Th-That never should have ha-happened… It shouldn’t have g-gone that f-far…”

 

_She’d thought their suits couldn’t be pierced._

_She’d never seen so much blood._

 

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated gently, resting his cheek upon the top of her head, “because it all worked out.”

 

_Her words were caught in her throat. She wanted to say something— to speak to him, to test for a response. She took a stunned, painful step towards him. She could feel herself shaking._

_Chat Noir hadn’t used his cataclysm yet. There was no reason for him to have detransformed._

 

“Y-You don’t get it,” she sniffled, digging her fingers into his back, “It happened. I-It still happened.”

 

_“Chat?” she choked out, her voice below even a whisper. She took another step forward. Tiny green eyes met hers._

_She recognized it as a kwami._

 

Chat Noir said nothing. He began to sway his body gently from side to side, as if to rock her. He was treating her like a baby, and she hated that she felt as though it was exactly what she needed.

 

_“_ _Go!” the creature hissed, its tiny black body nestled into the fallen boy’s hair._

_“Buh-But—” she blubbered, her vision beginning to blur as her mind grew faint._

_“You’re not helping anything by standing there!” the kwami roared. Her knees were wobbling. It took every ounce of willpower she had to not collapse to her knees. “Just go and save the day already!”_

_She turned on her heel and fled._

 

“You were dead,” she hissed out, allowing her tears to soak his suit. She ignored the beeping of her earrings. She still had some time. “I c-can’t— I can’t unsee that.”

 

_She used her lucky charm and managed to capture the akuma while on the verge of a panic attack. Sometimes she amazed even herself._

_She threw her summoned object into the air. Her voice trembled as she called out the words.  
_

_She didn’t know if it worked. She was afraid to check._

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hand petting at the back of her head. She wanted to scream. “I’m really sorry about that.”

 

_She had to take a moment to catch her breath before chucking her yoyo and zipping back to the rooftop._

 

“It’s not your fault.” She sniffled, finding the energy to pull back away from him and look up at him, her eyes pained, “It’s mine. It’s my fault.”

 

_Just as her feet hit the rooftop, a blinding green light flashed before her. She raised her arm to cover her eyes._

 

“It’s not your fault, Ladybug,” he countered, his voice stern as he grabbed at her shoulders, “It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. Nobody would. I made the decision to do it, and you’re the one that saved me. I owe you my life.”

“No,” she sighed, “I owe you mine.”

 

_She blinked through her tears and lowered her arm. She stared ahead of her, familiar green eyes meeting hers. His hand was held to his stomach, perhaps subconsciously, and his tail flicked behind him._

_She wanted to break down right then and there._

 

“Why not both?” Chat managed a smile, raising his finger to boop at her nose (which she consequently scrunched). "That way, we're even."

 

_“Ah, my Lady…” Chat cooed out, his playful smirk futilely attempting to mask his unsteady voice, “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking? I was still getting dressed.”_

_She broke down._

 

“If you die again,” she breathed out, “I’ll kill you.”


End file.
